


Olivia

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Haylor, Olivia - Freeform, Songwriting, friends - Freeform, guess you can call this a song fic, this might've actually happened people!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7418494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Taylor co-write the song Olivia. A Haylor drabble/one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Olivia

“And now the only problem is the chorus,” Harry chuckled. “The goddamn chorus, which I cannot think of a single line to begin with.

Taylor laughed at that- the sound, bright and tinkling, making it across the room. “Play the part again,” she suggested, “Maybe we’ll come up with something decent.”

And so Harry picked up Taylor’s guitar and begins to strum the lines to the unfinished song, loud and carelessly with a grin on his face. Taylor jumped up at that, her already drunken body taking the move and began to spin around the room in the terrible attempt of a pirouette, laughing her head off all the way.

 

It’s happy, this. It’s almost surreal, considering ow they don’t give a single fuck about the world right now. He had first appeared in her doorstep a couple of hours ago, because I want to write a song and I’ve got a general idea but how the fuck to you sculpt that into specific details, and the invitation to use her guitar and her recording materials had somehow turned into an invitation to uncork the wine bottles Taylor kept in her basement and to drink them in a milk glass, not bothering to get all fancy. Careless toasts were exchanged between friends starting out as congratulating on One Direction’s new upcoming album, and now the two of them were clinking glasses while giggling things as such “Ohmygod Styles, can’t you do something about that mass of that freaking mane of yours?!? Cheers to it, anyway.” “I happen to adore my hair, Swift. How very rude of you. Cheers to you for being a ass to my face.” And here they were now in Taylor’s music room, Harry now belching out the chorus to Best Song Ever just because he can, Taylor dancing enthusiastically along to the beat, Meredith disapprovingly glaring at both of them from the top of the piano and Olivia snoozing away at the floor.

It’s insane, really. Harry likes it, though.

 

“And we danced all night… to the best song ever!” Taylor giggled breathlessly, finally collapsing to the floor with a thump. “Impressing, Styles. I didn’t know you could play the guitar this well.”

“Been pestering Niall in giving me private lessons lately,” Harry beamed, not even blatantly attempting to keep the pride from his voice. “Glad it’s alright.”

“Oh, it’s better than alright, Styles. It got my stamp of approval,” Taylor fake-sternly said, wagging a finger in front of Harry’s face. “Taylor Swift’s approval is quite expensive, y’know?”

Harry shoved Taylor’s finger off his face. “Yes, yes, very grateful of your approval, Miss Swift."

“I don’t like your tone…….”

“Well, too bad for you, because that was my best offer.”

“Dick,” Taylor laughed, playfully slapping Harry’s forearm. “I should kick you out, really.”

“Oh, you’re the one who’s calling me a dick? Guess who’s the one who texted me halfway through the AMAs harassing my suit calling it your godson’s bib?”

“Oh, that.” She swatted her hands, “It’s one hundred percent true, Theo has a bib exactly looking like that, and you admit, your suit was terrible…….”

“Still, did you really had to text me ‘you better go ditch that suit and go stark naked on stage because I’m not seeing the life-sized version of my godson’s bib on national camera.‘ ? And I liked my suit.”

“Whatever.”

“I think I deserve a apology, Swift.” Harry grinned, nudging her leg with the tip of his toes. She scoffed and crossed her arms. “You’re acting like a kid. Be mature, Harold.”

But that was the reason why Harry considered Taylor as one of his greatest friends, actually. The way they could interact professionally and act like a little boy and a girl at the same time, their personalities seamlessly sliding in. She tolerated his jokes(which his band mates had long lost hope in) and he lived through her endless cat-related rambles(enthusiastically joined in, really). They could be clamped together in a metal box 24 hours and still be laughing by the end of the day. Of course, this sometimes raised questions in Harry’s head, particularly in the romantic part of his brain: what if this means we’re meant to be?

But who knew the answer? Maybe they were. Perhaps they weren’t. In the present however, Harry was just glad to have such a friend next to him.

 

“Thought you were here to accept my master’s advice on songwriting,” Taylor said, smirking up at Harry, “shouldn’t you be more… respectful?”

Harry grinned right back, taking a swig of wine, “Oh yeah, alright. Thought you were helping me about our new song. And what are you doing now, hmm? Dissing my fashion sense in the most disrespectful way. Very disappointed, Taylor.”

“If you keep trash talking at me like that I won’t help you at all,” she slapped his chest, giggling. Harry stuck out his tongue at her.

“’kay, ‘kay, I’ll be nice,” he said, rolling his eyes. “now back to the chorus?”

 

Taylor’s face instantly morphed into a more serious expression, and Harry inwardly marveled in how Taylor could be giggly and drunk one second and be all professional just because music was mentioned. This passion was the exact thing that led Taylor to Harry all these years ago, and even now when he has to label her in the category of friends, it’s still an ever-impressing trait.

 

“I think……” she said thoughtfully, “I’ve got a general idea, but I have to work on the details.

Play the part again?“

So Harry began to strum the chorus lines of their song, occasionally humming lyrics here and there. Taylor listened intensely perched on the floor, frowning slightly, and it’s not until the 5th time Harry played it does Taylor bolt up from her position at the floor, face lit with inspiration.

“I’ve got it!” she shouted, a bit breathless. “I’ve got it! Gimme the guitar!”

The guitar Harry hurriedly handed to her in hands, Taylor flopped gracelessly down at the floor, eyes shining. “This is gonna be good. You ready?” He nodded quickly, motioning her to go on.

She tested the lines for a second, letting the melodies flow freely, then Taylor was off. A full chorus of a song created right from her fingertips smoothly, without any missing chords or mistakes, almost like she had been practicing it for months. It’s all very impressive and what makes Harry burst out laughing isn’t the tune of the song.

“Oh, I love you, I love you, Olivia!” she sang loudly and carelessly, laughter in every syllable, “I love, I love, I love Olee-vee-ah!” dragging out the last word, she dramatically ended her impromptu concert with a wild banging of the guitar lines and throwing her hands up in the air, “There! Applause!”

Harry was laughing his head off. Sure, it was a great song and the lyrics weren’t too bad, but it was about her little cat for heaven’s sake. “What? Are we supposed to serenade your cat every day in stage or something?” 

“You love Olivia,” Taylor grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “And you know it’s a masterpiece. You’re gonna use it or not?”

“It’ll see……if any of the lads doesn’t bring up anything better, we’ll use it.”

She audibly huffed at that, “Oh, thanks. A backup plan. That’s all I’m worth, isn’t it.”

But a twinkle in her eye told Harry that she wasn’t really mad. He laughed.

“I sometimes forget you’re actually four years older than me, you dork.” Harry said fondly.

“Shut up, you’re mean.” she said, turning away and crossing her arms, but a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I don’t talk to meanies.”

Harry pouts at this. A full on one too, all wide eyes, lower lip sticking out and all that. “You won’t talk to me?” he whined, “Really? Forever and always?”

Taylor finally bursted out laughing, “I guess I can tolerate this particular meanie,” she said, fondness etched in her tone, “if it’s a meanie who looks like a homeless kitten. And uses my song references, eh?

So you’re gonna use Olivia or what?“

Harry smiled at her, “Now that you’re throwing a tantrum, we’ll try to use it, alright?”

She beams at that.

“Good.”

 

***

 

Months later at the dressing room of a arena, Taylor receives an album straight out of the studio via text followed with the words:

 

-you win, Swift.

-track 9.

 

Despite being thoroughly exhausted from running around in a massive arena for 4 hours, Taylor manages a satisfied smile.

 

-Told you I was more worth than a backup plan.


End file.
